


You stay here with me.

by melbopo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alison is a spoken word poet, Alive Allison Argent, Alternate Universe - Future, Deviates From Canon, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fluid Sexuality, Future Fic, If you aren't into that then skip the first wake up scene, Instead of Allison dying she left Beacon Hills, Lesbian Sex, Lydia has children, M/M, Minor Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Teen Wolf Femslash Week, Unbeta'ed, because I love her, xoxo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melbopo/pseuds/melbopo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you lose touch with your best friend and sometimes things don't work out exactly the way you planned but sometimes those people will come back into your life at just the right time and sometimes things work out even better than you could ever imagine.</p><p>This is a story about all of those sometimes. After all, how much can really change in twelve years?</p><p>  <i>inspired by this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cv3nZLC4-gY#t=103">poem</a> by andrea gibson for day four of <a href="http://www.twfemslash.tumblr.com">lydia femslash week</a>.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You stay here with me.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a single line, "So your vagina it’s really rad that babies have come out of it”, from Andrea Gibson's poem [Pansies](http://ohandreagibson.tumblr.com/pansies). I just really liked the idea of Lydia having a family and Allison finding her way through poetry and how their lives come back together over time. All the poetry mentioned to or in written in here is all Andrea Gibson's work whom I gave credit/linked!!
> 
> I proofread this a couple of times but if there are any extra errors that I glossed over please don't hesitate to let me know! I would really appreciate it.
> 
>  
> 
> ***UPDATE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO POST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITE SUCH AS GOODREADS OR E-BOOKTREE***  
> Also, I listened to this [playlist](http://8tracks.com/melbopo/a-salute-to-the-q-u-e-e-n-s) the entire time I was writing this.
> 
> ALSO, if you are into Femslash/this sort of thing I wrote this for day Lydia Femslash week at [twfemslash.tumblr.com](www.twfemslash.tumblr.com) so you should check it out! Enjoy!

Lydia Martin is exhausted after the long day filled of fake smiles and small talk with old white men at the conference that speak in dry tones about mathematical programming like it's a religion. It doesn't take much cajoling from her co-workers to go out for some drinks to relax. She finds herself at a small bar that has a stage set for poetry mic night. Lydia has always loved poetry so she doesn't mind when her group sits away from the bar and close to the stage, at the only table still open in the small bar that is filling up fast. The crowd seems to know who the first two poets are, already familiar with the dynamic strong women that make up [Sister Outsider](http://www.sisteroutsiderpoetry.com/). Lydia finds herself drawn into the smooth flow of their voices and powerful message in their words.

Lydia is in the midst of ordering her second drink when the final poet is announced, the crowd erupting into applause, a sign that this poet is the one that the crowd has been waiting on the edge of their seat for. Lydia joins in the cheering, clapping along as if she too knows who they are. Her co-worker, Kate, leans over to her and whispers in her ear, “This girl is young but damn is she good - dark but good.”

Lydia nods her head at Kate’s comment, trusting in her judgement. Her eyes flick up from her drink just as a dark haired woman takes the mic in her hand, her head bowed down over the mic, smiling shyly at the applause as if she isn't used to it or simply humbled by it. She raises her head slowly to look out at the faces in the crowd. Their eyes meet and Lydia’s heart stops for a second, her breath catching in her throat at the sight. She swears that the guest pauses for a second longer than most on her face but she keeps scanning over the crowd before speaking, her voice steady and calm.

“Thanks Ben for the introduction and thanks to you guys for showing up to listen to my poems about my feelings. As they said, I’m Ally A and this is my first poem for you guys tonight called ‘An Insider’s Guide on How to be Sick’.”

Lydia can’t stop staring at the woman on stage in front of her, looking completely different and yet somehow exactly the same as the Allison Argent that left the small town of Beacon Hills all those years ago. She finds hers entranced, shushing Kate when she leans in to whisper something to her again. 

[“Never say the words ‘this is not my life’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXzz38fvxrg)  
This pain that wakes you screaming in the muzzle of the night  
That woke your lover, chased her into another room  
-into another life  
This fevered fainting  
This trembling chest  
This panic like a cave of bats…..” 

Lydia drinks in her voice, soaking up the way her voice sounds different than the pathetic memory in her mind from the last time she heard it. It’s been twelve years, of course it's different. She's different, Lydia's different. Everything is different. She finds herself entranced by Allison’s entire line up of poetry, one of her poems is funny, [a letter to my dog exploring the human condition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMeTA9-zMuk) another brutally honest, [privilege is never having to think about it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jl09-ftX-8), and the second to last one is about love, [ honey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-S9SvvnsRjk). 

By the time Allison announces that she is performing her final poem of the night, Lydia is torn between wanting to keep hearing her spill her guts with a soft and steady voice over the mic and ambushing her after the show to listen to her speak just for her ears. Allison’s last poem has a different tone altogether, it sounds sad yet hopeful, like she is pouring her entire soul into this one piece, into making this one poem remembered. Allison’s emotions causing her voice to waver as she speaks, her eyes sweeping over the crowd again as she says her final verses,

[ “you- you stay here with me, okay?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eD3H7a6zKKc)  
You stay here with me.  
Raising your bite against the bitter dark  
Your bright longing  
Your brilliant fists of loss  
Friend  
if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other,  
my god that’s plenty  
my god that’s enough  
my god that is so so much for the light to give  
each of us at each other’s backs whispering over and over and over  
‘Live’” 

With her last words, Lydia could swear that Allison is looking straight at her, at the tear running down her cheek. Allison takes a moment to compose herself, thanking the audience for being wonderful as she leaves the stage. Lydia turns her head slowly to look at Kate as she nudges her arm, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “I know her. She was my best friend.”

Kate look confused for a moment at Lydia’s line of thought before catching up and nodding her head in encouragement. “Go say hi then-reconnect!” She adds with a playful wink, definitely not believing that Lydia means friend as in friendship and not the fucking kind of friend.

Lydia rolls her eyes at the the wink, helping bring her back to the moment, to the present, to seeing Allison for the first time in years. She hops off her stool and makes for the side of the bar that is selling both beer and merchandise. She can see “Ally” talking with a group of fans, relaxed and calm in her demeanor as she signs their CDs. Once they leave, she turns around to start picking up her merchandise and organizing it into a neat pile for one of the techies to carry. Lydia approaches her slowly, internally freaking out while she attempts to play cool on the outside. 

“So, can I buy you a drink?”

Allison continues folding shirts and staking them in a pile, not even turning around as she replies, “Sorry, I don’t get drinks with strangers from my shows.”

“Come on Allison, not even for an old friend?”

At the mention of her full name, Allison turns around fast, a question on the tip of her tongue. “Why did you call me- Lydia? Holy shit. Wow.”

Lydia looks at her calmly in response, shrugging her shoulders slightly with an expression that screams, “yeah, no shit.” Allison seems to be gaping at her, eyes darting all over her face and body, trying to take in all of the changes that she missed. Lydia interrupts the millions of thoughts flying through her mind, “So how about that drink?”

Allison purses her lips tightly as her eyes sweep up and down Lydia, scrutinizing the woman in front of her now, evaluating the risk. She knew this was bound to happen, that one day she would run into someone from her past. She just never thought it would happen so soon. Lydia meets her gaze head on, raising her eyebrow in a challenging manner. It’s a look that is so reminiscent of the Lydia she remembers, nostalgia for their late night talks, conspiring adventures, and overall closeness floods Allison. She puts her hands in the front pockets of her jeans as she shrugs, trying to look calm and collected on the outside as she replies, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Lydia’s blinding smile in response causes old warm feelings to resurface in her stomach. She finds herself rolling her eyes when Lydia grabs her arm and drags her to the hard alcohol service section of the bar - apparently some people never change. Allison smiles to herself at that thought while Lydia orders them gin and tonics, tossing her curly strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder to look back at Allison for her approval, which Allison gives in the form of a small nod.

As Lydia pays, doubt begins to cloud Allison’s mind. She left over ten years ago; she is not the same lost and powerless girl was back then. She found her passion in poetry, she found her own strength, and she found that she is no longer weak. Lydia seems to recognize that though, if the careful glances she keeps giving Allison out of the corner of her eye is anything to go by. It’s as if Lydia doesn’t quite believe that Allison is there, in the flesh next to her, that she might vanish (again) if she isn't paying close enough attention. Allison’s panic changes to whether Lydia resents her for leaving when Lydia starts to lead her, carrying drinks to a small booth in the back corner that has the exit door in sight. The little unconscious gesture on Lydia’s behalf is very reminiscent of their friendship and how they’d look after each other after the nemeton sacrifice-it took something from all of them in a way.

Allison is so caught up in her inner panic that she doesn’t realize that neither of them have spoken for the past couple of minutes until Lydia clears her throat loudly to refocus her attention. She zones back in on Lydia’s critical gaze from across the bar booth.

“So… poetry?” Lydia asks in a sincerely curious tone, her genuine interest reflected in her eyes.

“Yeah, I started writing one day and my girlfriend at the time saw my poems and encouraged me to publish. Then people really liked my stuff so I started touring and I’m good at it. So yeah… poetry.” Allison responds quickly, eager to fill the uncomfortable silence with a purposefully vague explanation; her voice is borderline defensive about the little corner she has carved out for herself.

A teasing smile is on Lydia’s features when she puts her drink down, “Not enough feelings sharing in the hunting business for you?”

Allison laughs heartily at that comment, initially surprised at her own reaction but remembering the numerous conversations she used to have with Lydia about how the majority of fights stemmed from the lack of communication, especially on the topic of feelings.

“Yeah, not enough for me.” She takes a long sip of her drink, enjoying the burn of strong gin down her throat. It helps to solidify the proof of this moment, to solidify the fact that this is all real, that it truly is the impeccable genius Lydia Martin across the booth from her in a dingy slam poet bar in Boston (of all places). She keeps talking, suddenly feeling the need to defend her choice of poetry to her once best friend. “I didn’t mean for this to be a career never mind successful. I started writing for myself, to try to make sense of everything happening in my head. It just happened to work out like this, in my favor.”

Lydia nods along as Allison speaks, steadily drinking her gin and tonic through the black stirrer. Lydia face looks so genuine as she responds, affection bleeding into her tone, “I’m happy it worked out for you Allison. You deserve so much good.”

The support in Lydia’s voice causes Allison to blush as she mumbles, “thanks”, around her black stirrer.

Lydia’s eyes widen as if a brilliant idea has just crossed her mind, “Are any of your poems about high school love?”

Allison laughs at the ridiculous imploring expression on Lydia’s face, all of her inner panic dissipating when Lydia leans across the table in a conspiring manner. She laughs even harder when Lydia whispers, “Scott? Isaac? Come on, give me all the dirty details!”

It’s from that playful teasing that they ease back into their familiar and comfortable relationship as if no time has passed at all since their last reunion. Many hours (and drinks) later, after recounting old supernatural adventures and questionable high school life choices, Lydia stands up from her booth. A rosy pink blush on her cheeks, a combination of the four gin and tonics and happy laughter, Allison feels lighter than she’s ever felt in her life as she regards Lydia fondly, her eyes helpless to watch each time Lydia’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. A familiar hunger growing in the pit of her stomach, craving to kiss Lydia senseless, to turn her lips plump and red with teasing bites. Lydia’s eyes gleam mischievous, knowing full well of her effect on Allison.

She gestures for Allison to stand up with her since the bar is closing soon and they should be heading out anyway. Allison wobbles slightly on her feet, sitting for so long and drinking causing her to lose her balance slightly. She giggles into Lydia’s strawberry blonde curls when she reaches to steady her.

“You’ve changed Allison.” Lydia states as a fact while she slips her arm around Allison’s waist, both as a comfort and an anchor as they walk towards the bar exit.

Lydia’s factual tone brings a half sided smirk to Allison’s lips as she focuses on moving one foot in front of the other out of the bar instead of the familiar floral scent of Lydia’s perfume. Her response is teasing that borders on affectionate and nostalgic, “I see you haven’t.”

Though Allison can’t see her face she can practically feel Lydia’s eye roll as she huffs out a laugh. “Not Beacon Hills, not even motherhood, can change me.”

They are outside of the bar now, remaining close on the cobblestone sidewalk as if both parties are hesitant to go their separate ways. Allison lifts her head from Lydia’s head to look down at her, “You’ve always had a mean stubborn streak in you.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.” Lydia responds, looking up at Allison from under her lashes, a concentration deep in her features that rivals her expression when on the brink of solving a truly complicated math equation. She presses her lips to Allison’s for a firm but short, much too short, kiss that is sticky from the gin. The blush now on Allison’s cheeks as she stands firmly rooted in her place from disbelief of the reality of this moment.

Lydia moves to stand next to Allison again, resting her head on Allison’s shoulder to enjoy the quiet moment. Instinctively Allison responds by leaning her head on Lydia’s. Lydia’s soft voice cuts through the quiet city, “Come back home-to Beacon Hills. Please. We miss you. I miss you.”  
Allison nods her head gently against Lydia’s, the cool air of night helping her absorb Lydia’s words. Perhaps it is the unexpectedness of this entire evening or the fact that being in Lydia’s presence just feels so right for Allison that makes her respond just as softly back, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s time I went home.”

~~~

Which is why three days later Allison finds herself across the country, driving into the bustling downtown of the place she once called home. A place, that she fled years previously and swore to never to return to, is now right in front of her.

Allison is fine with being back, for the most part, until she passes by the one bowling alley in the whole town and opens the floodgates on countless old (and often painful memories). Panic fills her mind that these memories might actually drown her this time, so she turns right around in her car and drives out of Beacon Hills into a neighboring city. She drives to the first hotel she sees and books one night so she can rest and leave the next day.

She calls Lydia with the full intention of telling her that she was wrong, that she isn’t ready to come back and she doesn’t know if she ever will because because there are still too many monsters that haunt her memories. But the moment she hears Lydia’s affectionate voice on the phone ask if she arrived all right and if they are still on for their date night, butterflies flutter in her stomach at the word date. Instead she finds herself confirming their 7pm meeting time at Lydia’s house before hanging up, knowing that this promise of something new with Lydia will ease her tension.

~~~

When Allison shows up at the address Lydia sends her, she is somehow unsurprised that it leads to a lovely aged two story Victorian house with plenty of character on a quiet suburban street near Stiles’s childhood home. What she is surprised by is the young strawberry red haired girl that answers the door before Allison even knocks with big doe eyes; she is the splitting image of Lydia. Allison’s surprise causes her to freeze in her spot, her hand still raised to knock on the front door. In a loud voice the young door answerer yells, “MOMMY! There’s a very pretty lady at the door.”

Lydia comes rushing the door, looking as beautiful as always, with a small boy with dirty blonde short hair resting on her hip. With their faces so close, it is obvious to see that he has her eyes. It makes Allison’s throat feel as though it is closing up as she glances from the little boy to Lydia’s face, her eyes wide as saucers. She thought Lydia flirted with her in Boston but now, here in Beacon Hills she feels so out of place. A million thoughts start rushing through her mind: Lydia has kids? Why didn’t she mention it? Who is the father? Is he still in the picture? Did she mean friend date and not date date? Was that a friendly drunk kiss? Why is she even back?

Sensing Allison’s inner turmoil, Lydia quickly ushers her into her home with a gentle hand on her raised hand and closes the door behind her. Lydia doesn’t directly acknowledge Allison’s obvious panic as she leads her down a narrow hallway. The questions in her mind haven’t stopped running, she doesn’t register most of the words coming out of Lydia’s apology, “Sorry I’m not ready yet. Stiles is an hour late to pick them up. He usually isn’t this late. I’ll be ready to go as soon as he comes.”

The tight reassuring grip Lydia has on Allison was working to calm her down but at the mention of Stiles name, her panic increases again at the thought of seeing Stiles or anyone else from the pack right now. Lydia brings her to the kitchen, letting go of her arm to open a beer from the fridge for her. The little girl, Lydia’s daughter-definitely Lydia’s daughter, stands by Allison, looking up at her with a scrunched up judgmental face. Allison feels herself blush as the shameless scrutiny as she takes a sip of her beer, offering her a nervous smile. “Who is your friend Mommy? How is she so pretty? Is she a Disney princess?”

Lydia chuckles in response while Allison blushes harder, the ring of the doorbell saves both of them from having to respond as the little girl screams, “DADDY IS HERE!” before running off for the door, Lydia following close behind. It suddenly dawns on Allison that obviously those are Stiles’s children, they have his little upturned nose and long lanky limbs. The question of why she is here right now keeps echoing through her mind as she tries to calm down and relaxes into the moment.

The front door closes again and soon Lydia is back in the kitchen standing across from Allison, a cautious expression on her face like she is thinking hard about the next words out of her mouth. Allison beats her to breaking the silence, accidentally blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, “So it’s kinda rad that babies have come from your vagina?”

Lydia laughs openly shaking her head gently as she remarks, “Yeah a lot has changed since you’ve been gone.”

“I can tell.” Allison responds, trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone but failing miserably. Lydia’s eyes soften as she puts her hand on Allison’s arm again. Just a single touch and Allison relaxing from the effortless physical touch.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen tonight, for you to meet Athena and Jason the moment you stepped foot in Beacon Hills. I was going to ease you into the chaos of my new life. Do you still wanna go out for dinner? See some old haunts?” They both cringe at the word choice of haunts but the honesty in Lydia’s voice gives Allison pauses. They gaze at each other in silence while Allison muddles through all the conflicting feelings in her mind. A part of Allison wants to leave this place because of the past but another part of her can’t ignore the strong draw she feels for Lydia, even after all these years. The idea that the past could hold her back from an amazing future is what makes her nod her head yes.

Dinner is nice and casual, both of them careful not to mention potentially awkward topics like Stiles or the kids or anything glaring about their past. It’s easy to slip out of reality and into their own little world that is reminiscent of the positive moments from their past friendship. It feels like a date with gentle flirting, sharing food, and even holding hands as they walk back to Lydia’s house for Allison’s car.

Allison walks her up to the front door, unsure of the next steps to take. As Lydia leans in, clearly intent on kissing Allison good night, the sight of a child’s bike on the front lawn brings Allison right back to the present and all the questions she has been ignoring all night. The words rush out of her mouth before she fully registers that she is speaking, “So is Stiles the father?”

Lydia pulls back, a little surprised at Allison’s words but sighs in understanding the importance of this conversation, to clear up any confusion, if this (whatever this is) is to resemble anything that is the slightest bit healthy.”Yes, he is. We started dating in college because we were both lonely and hurting; it made sense at the time.”

Now that Lydia is responding to her questions, Allison finds them just pouring out of her, “What about Malia?”

“She realized that she’d never left Beacon Hills and she wanted to get out, see new places. Stiles wanted to stay here. She’s traveling the world with Cora now.”

“You and Stiles just decided to have children?”

“Not particularly, it just... happened. I mistook my birth control and next thing I know I’m pregnant my senior year of college . So we decided to be mature adults and get married.”

Lydia pauses like she stills holds residual embarrassment over her head at that minor mistake that altered the course of her future. Like she doesn’t block out the pain of reading the pregnancy test by herself in her bathroom and crying for hours, wishing that Allison was there to help her. Allison presses on, needing to hear exactly what happened, what changed, while she was gone. Her voice quiet and patient as she asks, “Then what happened Lyds?”

“We were happy, for a while, but I woke up one day after five years of marriage and I suddenly wasn’t. I didn’t love Stiles like that and I couldn’t do that to him, to us, to our kids. So we split, amicably. We are still best friends and take care the kids together, raise them together. But we aren’t romantically involved.” Lydia concludes, her voice taking a defensive tone as if Allison might judge the choices she has made that have led her to where she is now. It may not have been the plan she wanted in high school, but things change and people change and she adjusted.

Allison is quiet for a moment, nodding her head softly to herself like she understands Lydia’s defensiveness as she absorbs this new information. Allison feels overwhelmed but like she can’t stop asking questions, even if she drowns in the unwanted reality that life continued on without her. “What about Scott?” 

“He’s still happily married to Kira; it’s been six years. They just had their first child-a little boy with Scott’s dimples but Kira’s giggle that makes everyone gush.”

The mention of another baby in the pack that she isn’t aware of makes Allison huff out a breathe of air, the lack of pain from hearing Scott is happily married surprises her. “Well shit everyone grew up...” 

Lydia rolls her eyes, “What did you expect Allison? It’s been twelve years. We couldn’t all be like you and abandon Beacon Hills.”

Perhaps Lydia means for the comment to be teasing but her resentment rings through loud and clear. At first Allison is shocked at the low blow, but they have been skirting around their questions and feelings all night. She anger bubbles up inside of her at that comment, feeling the need to defend herself. “What? That is not what happened and you know that.”

Lydia crosses her arms over her chest, a defensive move she does when she is feeling angry and vulnerable. The fact that Allison still remembers that after all these years just annoys her even further. “No I don’t Allison. One day you were here and the next you weren’t. What happened?”

Allison can hear the pain in Lydia’s voice but she refuses to let that get to her, she searches for the words to explain herself, to make sense of her leaving. “I couldn’t stay in this place anymore Lydia. The darkness, was eating me alive. I stopped sleeping. I almost died. I just knew I had to get out of this beacon of hell. I found that the darkness became weaker the further I went so I just kept going until it was a small shadow that I could ignore. I couldn’t be here anymore Lydia.” Allison presses on, now that she has opened the dam on Beacon Hills her words keep coming, “Then one day, I woke up and the darkness was no longer even a shadow in my mind. And I knew it was gone, for good-that something had happened here with the nemeton. I started writing my poems about that time, trying to get my thoughts and feelings out to make sense of them.”

There are tears gathering in the corner of Lydia’s eyes as she demands, “What about the people you left behind Allison? What about them?”

Allison stands firm in her response, “I had to do this for myself, I had to leave for myself.”

Lydia takes a deep calming breath, pushing the threatening lump in her throat down so she doesn’t burst into tears right this second. “I’m not mad at you for leaving Allison. I’m mad that you stopped talking to us. You never returned my texts, emails, or voice mails. And I called you every single day for months until you changed your number. You just disappeared Allison. You were my best friend, how could you just leave me like that?”

Allison can still tell that Lydia is on the verge of tears, something that she does not enjoy happening with witnesses. Her guilt overwhelms her at the reality of Lydia’s words and her obvious pain, she reaches forward and rests her hands on the biceps of Lydia’s crossed arms. Her words are calm but emotional as she tries to soothe her, “Lydia, Lydia. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I didn’t want to abandon you but I had to save myself. I had to do something for me. You’re my best friend, always have been and always will be. I’m sorry.” She finishes as she kisses Lydia’s forehead, so soft and sweet before turning around leaving-again.

The action further annoys Lydia as she wipes the hot tears falling down her cheek that betray her true emotions. She checks her phone as she starts to unlock her front door, looking forward to falling into her bed with some Netflix and a bottle of wine. She sees panicked texts from Stiles, saying that Jason is having night terrors again. Lydia swears to herself as she re-locks her door and heads for the car. It happens sometimes that children get night terrors when they are really young that just cause them to scream and scream but Lydia can’t help but fear it has something to do with her banshee abilities or the nogitsune in Stiles or even Beacon Hills as a whole. She feels guilty every time one of her children have a night terror at the idea that its simply because she brought them into this world and that she can never love them enough to make the night terrors go away.

She drives fast and on autopilot to Stiles’s apartment on the other side of town, mulling over Allison’s words, still feeling abandoned but understanding her reasons (even though they aren’t the best reasons-Allison was always the one to react on her gut first then calculate later. The opposite of Lydia). When Lydia shows up Stiles’s apartment, she doesn’t want to wake Jason up in case Stiles had success getting him to fall asleep so she lets herself in the front door. The sight on the couch is what makes her stop dead in her tracks: Stiles and Derek cuddling with Jason fast asleep on both of their laps. She can’t stop the word as it falls out of her mouth, “What.”

Stiles looks up at her sleepily from where he is resting his head against Derek’s and blinks a couple of times to reorient himself. “What?” He then looks back down at where he and Derek are holding hands and he drooled a little on Derek’s shoulder, he whips his head back fast to Lydia as it dawns on him. Jostling Derek awake as he hits his head against Derek’s nose in his haste to separate and stand up, “Oh shit. Hi.” Derek protectively pulls a sleeping Jason further onto his lap so he doesn’t wake up, then blushes at the situation at hand but not abandoning his position on the couch. Stiles stands in front of Lydia, a blush high on his cheek as he scratches the back of his head under her critical gaze. “So um… Derek got him to fall back asleep.”

Lydia’s eyebrow raises even further at Stiles’s antics. “Yes, I can obviously see that.”

“Ummm... so Derek and I are dating.” Stiles says in one gush of breathe as if he has been holding it in for ages but dying to let it out. Lydia can hear Derek groan from somewhere behind Stiles, as if this was not how they planned to tell her. Lydia returns her attention to Stiles as she responds in a bland tone, “Wow, about time. Glad to hear that you both finally got your heads out of your asses. I’ll see you tomorrow around lunch to pick up the kids.”

With that Lydia turns on the heel of her foot and leaves Stiles’s apartment, disappointed that she can’t slam the door in the face of their happiness. She calls Allison as she drives drives back to her house. A sleepy voice connects on the phone, “‘Ello?” Lydia sucks in a deep breathe to respond, but it comes out like a broken sob. Concern is obvious in Allison’s voice as she wakes up to the situation. “Lydia? Is that you? Are you okay?

Lydia thinks about everything that has happened tonight as well as the past twelve years and manages to choke out a sad, “No.” Feeling more vulnerable than she ever has in her whole life, like Allison’s rejection could push her over the edge for a full scale break down that she hasn’t had since Allison left. 

Lydia hears a door opening and slamming shut over the phone as Allison says, “I’ll be right there. Just give me ten minutes. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” Lydia can hear Allison’s car starting up as she parks hers in her driveway.

Already feeling a little more in control of her emotions and her life as Lydia walks up the steps to her house. “No but just get here soon, please.” Lydia hears Allison agree before she hangs up the phone and lets herself back into her house, she locks the door behind her as she heads for her emergency tequila stash. She does two shots by the time there is knocking on her front door. She opens it is to see Allison still in her pajamas, looking like she literally ran out of bed just to get to Lydia’s side. She looks absolutely beautiful with the soft moon light behind her and heat pools deep in Lydia’s stomach. She reaches for Allison’s hand to pull her in the doorway and closes the front door by pushing Allison up against it with a firm grip on Allison’s hips. Her lips clash with Allison’s in a confusing but heated kiss that is all tongue and no finesse. Lydia’s hand cards up Allison’s pajama shirt as Allison parts her legs purely on instinct. Lydia delights in the fact that Allison isn’t even wearing a bra right now as she licks into Allison’s mouth while pinching her nipple.

Allison is trying to slow down the kiss to be gentle but when Lydia doesn’t respond to that she pulls her head back and puts her hand on Lydia’s to stop her advancements up her shirt. She tries to look into Lydia’s eyes but Lydia avoids her gaze by kissing down her neck. It’s everything Allison has ever been too afraid to let herself dream about but she still feels like something isn’t right. “Woah, Lydia. What’s happening? Not that I mind but we should talk, especially about why you called me crying.”

Lydia keeps leaving biting kisses down Allison’s neck, “I don’t want to talk, I just want to forget for a little bit.”

That response sets off an alarm in Allison’s head, “Forget what?”

“Everything bad that has happened today as well as over the years.”

“What happened today?”

“You meeting my children without warning. Our fight. Stiles officially moving on. I walked in on him cuddling Derek on the couch, my son asleep on their lap.”

That makes Allison put her hands firmly on Lydia’s hips to stop them from grinding against hers, “Lydia, stop you don’t want this right now. Come on, let’s just talk about it.”

Initially Lydia’s response is annoyed when Allison pulls away from her, but then she sounds defeated as she slumps her head forward onto Allison’s shoulder. “No this is what I want! I want you. Why can I never have what I want Allison? Why-”

Lydia words break off as she starts crying into Allison’s shoulder. Allison reaches a hand up to gently run her fingers through Lydia’s curls. Her voice is calm as she responds, “It’s okay babe, let it out. Let’s put a hold on us right now and just lay in bed and talk about it. Like old times?”

Lydia nods her head gently, slowly pulls her head away from Allison’s shoulder like she is embarrassed of her behavior. Allison wastes no time in grabbing her hand and attempting to navigate her way to the stairs and up to the second floor and Lydia’s bedroom. Lydia lies on her bed as Allison helps to undress her and put her into her pajamas before crawling up the bed to lay next to her. She pulls Lydia’s body flush against hers as she lays on her back an arm wrapped protectively around Lydia’s waist as she curls into her side, resting her head on Allison’s shoulder and her hand on Allison’s stomach. It feel incredibly intimate so Allison allows the silence to encompass them, comfortable to wait until Lydia is ready to start talking on her own. 

When Lydia starts talking she is quiet, whispering in the darkness as if she is afraid Allison isn’t really awake or listening. But Allison traces soothing circles into Lydia’s skin as she talks about everything she has bottled up over the years while Allison listens intently and overs input from time to time. She confesses that she doesn’t have her PhD yet because she has to have a job to support her family. Though her job is doing research, it is taking longer than it was supposed to get her PhD. She talks about her dreams she had, dreams with Allison and their future, dreams out of Beacon Hills but this town sucked her in. How she felt like she couldn’t leave once Allison left and how hard everything was without her. She talks about how much she loves her children and how they make staying in Beacon Hills bearable. She admits that they are the best thing in her life and she wouldn’t change having kids for the world. In the safety that only darkness and proximity can lend itself to, Lydia confesses that she missed Allison, missed her every day she was gone.

Allison kisses the top of her head and whispers back, “I missed you too babe.”

They fall asleep shortly after, the tension of the day, month, years, draining out of both of them at that quiet and honest confession. When Lydia wakes up, it’s to the smell of pancakes and the sight of a peaceful Allison sitting cross legged on the bed next to her with a cup of coffee in her hand that Athena made Lydia for Mother’s Day last year. Allison looks like she fucking belongs there, in Lydia’s bed, and her heart swells a little at the thought but she pushes it down because her stomach is grumbling at the delicious sight in front of her. There are pancakes, coffee, and juice on a tray on the bed next to her. Lydia sits up against the headboard as she pulls the tray to her lap, “You even found chocolate chips?”

Allison smiles brightly over her mug of coffee as she responds easily, “Yeah, they wouldn’t be nightmare pancakes without them.”

Lydia smiles fondly at the memory of how they would always make pancakes together after a rough night of monsters, nightmares, or general life shit.They eat peacefully on the bed, exchanging funny stories of different adventures or mishaps they have gotten themselves into without their partner in crime over the years. Allison is laughing hard at Lydia’s story about the day Athena come home from school, asking what sex is and how Stiles turned beet red and left a shocked Lydia to fumble for a weak response that was something along the lines of ‘its something that happens when people are naked’. And how now Athena thinks people only have sex in showers and Lydia is just avoiding that topic until puberty hits then she will be better prepared with diagrams and Stiles already made a powerpoint presentation.

In her bed, after cooking her pancakes while laughing at her stories about her children, Lydia is overcome with a strong desire to kiss Allison. So she does. She leans the short distance between them and kisses Allison firmly on the lips, her tongue sweeping gently across Allison’s bottom lip, making her groan in response. Lydia’s tongue seizes that moment to taste Allison’s mouth and god she tastes like chocolate and syrup and coffee and everything good and sweet in life. She leans back slightly, delighted when Allison’s mouth chases hers, eager for more kisses. Lydia knows she has to pull back now or else she will never want to stop. She watches Allison’s eyes flutter open and lock on hers as she asks, “Is this okay? Do you want… me?”

They are simple questions, just asking for consent before going forward but it feels heavier than that. This moment is a compilation of a thousand mini moments that led them to here, to right now. Allison bites her bottom lip as she nods her head vigorously yes. “Absolutely,” she says as she leans forward to press her lips against Lydia’s once more.

The kiss is gentle at first, even with consent, a timid exploration of the right angle and pressure to apply, where their hands fall naturally on each other’s head, shoulder, or waist, finding the formula for the perfect kiss. Then Allison tilts her head up slightly, running her tongue against the seam of Lydia’s lips, begging for entrance. Lydia isn’t swayed that easily though, she bites gently on Allison’s bottom lip, feeling Allison’s smile against her own lips. Allison can be just as stubborn, she slips her cold hands under Lydia’s shirt to rest her hands on the warm soft skin of Lydia’s stomach. She pushes Lydia back, tumbling with her onto the bed sheets, causing Lydia to let out a surprised noise at combination of cold hands and toppling.

Allison uses the moment of surprise to sneak her tongue into Lydia’s mouth just for the sweet taste of success. Perhaps it’s the new angle or Allison’s tongue, their kiss changes from gentle to desperate quickly as their mouths fight for more control over the kiss. Lydia rearranges her legs so her thigh are between Allison’s legs. Lydia grinds her hips up against Allison’s thigh, intent on apply pressure to Allison’s clit with movements. A soft moan is the prize Lydia’s receives from Allison, a clear sign of her success, which she uses to propel wet kisses down Allison’s throat in an attempt to find more sensitive spot to elicit more noises from Allison’s kiss swollen red lips.

Allison’s grip on Lydia’s hips tighten when she reaches a particularly sensitive spot of the soft skin below her ear. Lydia takes the cue as she nips at the spot again, sucking hard against it causing Allison to grind her hips down on Lydia thigh, eager for more friction against her clit. The sound of a metal utensil clattering against ceramic interrupts Allison’s moan, causing them to stop suddenly in their movements to look at the source. They both erupt into laughter when they realize the breakfast tray is still on the bed. Allison looks back at Lydia with a fond smile on her face, kissing her before pulling back. “I’m going to move that so we don’t break anything.”

Lydia smirks in response, sitting up on her elbows to watch Allison back off the bed, smacking her retreating ass the first moment she gets. Allison whips her head back, pretending to look deeply offended but the blush that raises to her cheek at Lydia’s responding wink, crumbles that disguise immediately. Allison picks up the tray, throwing one last peek over her shoulder at Lydia sprawled on the bed before leaving to take the tray back to the kitchen. The moment Allison is out of sight, Lydia wastes no time in scrambling to take off her pajama shirt then her shorts. Leaving her lacy black underwear on to avoid being presumptuous about exactly what will happen next.

Allison returns only moments later, stopping fast in her tracks at the sight of a very naked Lydia now sprawled on messy covers, waiting for her. She bites her lip at the sight, carefully trailing her eyes up Lydia’s body to her face, taking in the sight of her flush cheeks and hooded eyes. Lydia raises an eyebrow, a clear attempt at seeming casual but everything else about her body betrays her.

Allison takes her time removing her shirt, each inch of exposed smooth pale skin adding to the charge of sexual tension between them. Her movements mirror a strip tease but the moment feels much more intimate as she bares herself, her whole self (imperfections, flaws, and all), to Lydia. She pushes her pajama shorts down her thighs slowly until they fall and pool around her ankles. Allison steps out of them as she stalks forward towards Lydia’s bed. She rests her knees on the edge of the bed at Lydia’s feet, kissing her way up Lydia’s body starting at her calves and pausing at her hip. 

Allison nips gently against Lydia’s hip at the elastic band of Lydia’s black underwear. A soft moan passes through Lydia’s lips that makes Allison look up at her from under her lashes, locking eyes as she moves between Lydia’s legs to her vagina. A smug smirk on Allison’s lips as she watches Lydia’s eyes dilate at her movement. Allison doesn’t even break eye contact as she leans further between Lydia’s legs, breathing in a scent that is pure Lydia and arousal as she kitten licks Lydia’s clit area through the underwear. A deep groan comes from Lydia now as she breaks eye contact and lets herself fall back onto the bed, her legs tightening around Allison’s hips for more friction. Allison smiles to herself at Lydia’s attempt before she focuses fully on her task. She trails her hands up Lydia legs, grabbing at her thighs as she runs her tongue against lace covering the swollen lips of Lydia’s vagina. She feels Lydia grabbing for her hand and she laces their fingers together as she repeats her licking action, still holding back from putting the full pressure that Lydia is craving. 

Lydia’s free hand tangles itself in the soft brown waves of hair on the back of Allison’s scalp, pulling Allison closer to where she wants attention. Allison rewards Lydia’s initiative with a thrust of her tongue against Lydia’s clit, enjoying the way Lydia’s hand tightens automatically in response in her hair. She releases her grasp on Lydia’s thigh to rub her thumb against the lips to Lydia’s vagina in time with her tongue’s sweeps against her clit.

Lydia uses a gentle tug on Allison’s hair to pull her towards her so she can kiss her sloppily, her tongue snaking its way into Allison’s mouth while her hips continue to grind against Allison’s fingers. Allison moves her fingers up Lydia’s vagina to rub her thumb against her clit as she sucks gently on Lydia’s tongue. Lydia clamps her legs tighter around Allison’s hand and thigh as her orgasm hits her suddenly. She leans back into the mattress, continuing to kiss Allison sweetly. Allison’s hand leaves Lydia’s clit to apply pressure against her own clit, moaning into Lydia’s lips as she quickly reaches her own orgasm. Their kisses becomes gentle and lazy as they regain their breath after a pleasant morning orgasm.

Allison relaxes fully on the bed next to Lydia, her climax draining the rest of her energy out of her. She curls into Lydia’s side, her free hand resting protectively across the soft skin of Lydia’s stomach while their hands remain clasped by her side. She snuggles into Lydia’s shoulder to get fully comfortable. They lay in silence, enjoying each other’s company, for a couple of minutes before Lydia kisses the top of Allison’s head before whispering into her hair, “Thanks for everything.”

Allison lifts her head up slightly to get a better look at Lydia’s face as she confesses in a soft voice, “You’re still my best friend.”

Lydia’s sweet smile curves over her lips as she fondly looks back at Allison. She squeezes Allison’s hand gently, “Stay? Stay here with me?” Her face looks calm but her vulnerability is evident in the raised pitch at the end of words, making her words a questions instead of confessing her true desire.

Allison bites her lip as if she is concentrating on the question before giving Lydia a teasing smile, “Only if we’re officially going steady. I don’t want to scandalize this town.”

Lydia’s expression becomes serious, “Are you sure? This isn’t going to be easy. I mean, I have two kids now and I can’t fuck around like I used to. I have respo-”

Her words are cut off mid sentence with a persistent press of Allison’s lips against hers. “I know, I do. I don’t want to fuck around anymore either. I still have bad days and I’m not expecting it to be easy. But I think you’re worth it. I think this, us, is everything that I’ve been looking for that been just outside my reach. I think you’re the exact font I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

“That sounds like a line from one of your poems.” Lydia interrupts, a playful smirk that Allison immediately kisses off of her face. The kisses progress into something meaningful and slow before a phone call from Stiles about picking the kids up for lunch interrupts them. Allison sits up on the bed, grinning goofily down at Lydia as she says,

“Plus, you know I’ve always wanted kids.”

~~~

It’s the first open mic night at Kira and Derek’s joint venture bar called the Fox and the Wolf which has been surprising successful in Beacon Hills. Who knew that the constant threat of supernatural attacks would lead to a demand for late night bars with protective wards and specialty drinks? The place is pleasantly packed for a Thursday night when Allison takes the stage. She adjusts the mic to her height as she smiles against the bright stage lights into the majority of familiar faces in the audience. In the past three years since she’s returned home, she’s made friends with most of the supernatural locals as the town’s huntress and poet.

“Hey Everyone! I hope you are all having a great night. I’m about to read for you guys one of my new poems. I’d like to dedicate [this poem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8oGYyLDxFI) to my beautiful girlfriend that I am here tonight celebrating the completion of her PhD! Here’s to you babe.” Allison clears her throat as she begins to recite from memory, her eyes locking on Lydia’s from across the floor. 

“I do.  
But the motherfuckers say we can’t.  
‘cause you’re a girl and I’m a girl  
or at least something close  
So the most we can hope for is an uncivil union in Vermont  
but I want church bells – I want rosary beads;  
I want Jesus on his knees.  
I want to walk down the aisle while all the patriarchy smiles  
That’s not true.  
But I do want to spend my life with you.  
And I want to know that fifty years from now when you’re in a hospital room  
getting ready to die, when visiting hours are for family members only,  
I want to know they’ll let me in to say goodbye.  
‘Cause I’ve been fifty years memorizing how the lines beneath your eyes form rivers when you cry and I’ve held my hand like an ocean at your cheek saying, “Baby, flow to me.”  
‘Cause fifty years I’ve watched you grow with me  
fifty years of you never letting go of me,  
through nightmares and dreams and everything in between  
From the day I said “Buy me a ring.”  
Buy me a ring that will turn my finger green so I can imagine our love is a forest  
I wanna get lost in you.  
And I swear I grew like a flower every hour of the fifty years I was with you  
And that’s not to say we didn’t have bad days...”

After singing the last line of her new poem, Allison pulls out a black velvet ring box from her blazer pocket. She hops off the stage, enjoying the power she feels as the audience parts for her as she makes her to way to the back table where Lydia sits, surrounded by their pack, but their friends. Allison doesn't even make it down to her knee before Lydia is wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug, whispering “I do. I do” in Allison’s ear. Allison pulls back from Lydia, a big smile on her face as she asks, “Lydia Martin, will you marry me?”

Lydia grabs both sides of Allison’s cheeks as she pulls her close for a big romantic kiss that is filled with promise of countless breakfasts in bed and warm kisses. She breaks their kiss to smile against Allison’s lips as she replies, “Yes. I would love to marry you Allison Argent.”

A tear rolls down Stiles’s cheek as he embracing both of them from the side, enveloping them in a tight squeeze. “Congratulations! You two should go home and celebrate. Grandpa has the kids tonight. Go have ‘finally-engaged-couple’ sex!”

Once they realize that they don’t have kids for the night, they waste little time in getting home for some nice, alone time that they haven’t been able to have in months with the kids, finishing Lydia’s thesis, and general life conflicts. They take their time that night, just going slow and taking their time working each other up by usually their arsenal of weaknesses that they have built up over the years on each other. They fall asleep, legs and hands tangled together, until the next morning.

Allison wakes up the sound of Jason’s voice in her ear, firing off a thousand questions a minute just like his father, “Does the ring mean two are married now? Are you going to finally move in for real Aly? Are you awake? Can I call you mommy?” 

Allison hears Lydia stirring next to her, grateful that they made an effort to put their pajamas on last night after brushing their teeth. Allison sits up in the bed to prop herself against the headboard, unsure where to start in the line of questioning from Jason. Lydia sits up completely next to her, blinking multiple times to get her bearings of the situation because her responses are always delayed in the morning before her first cup of coffee.

Before Allison even has to answer the questions, she sees Athena walking into the room carrying a breakfast tray filled with a large stack of pancakes, juice, and two coffee mugs. Allison moves over on the bed to give Jason and Athena a spot on the bed near her, she reaches for Lydia’s hand and intertwines their fingers as Jason scrambles onto the pillows. Lydia’s eyes light up at the sight of Athena with coffee, “Oh yum! Breakfast in bed!” She reaches for the coffee cup the moment Athena places the tray as Allison reaches for the top pancake and takes a big exaggerated bite making Jason laugh at her chipmunk cheeks.

Athena crawls up the bed to sit by them, accidentally making some of the juice spill on the bed sheets. Athena’s eyes widen at the stain, looking up quickly at both Lydia and Allison, a firm frown on her face. Allison smiles sweetly at her as she takes another bite of her pancake, patting the empty spot next to her for Athena to move closer.

“Don’t worry! I think pancakes are even more delicious when you get to eat them in bed. I think they're worth a little mess.”

Athena smiles in response to the wink that Allison gives her as she hands her a piece of her pancake. Lydia watches Allison interact with her son and daughter over the top of her coffee cup, a happy fond smile on her lips at the seamless interaction between her children and Allison seamless. Warmth fills her body at the sight, knowing that she has made the right choice three years ago to approach Allison at the bar. Allison looks up from her important task of dolling out the pancakes to and makes eye contact with Lydia, her expression softening to match Lydia's. She puts her hand on top of Lydia's and squeezes it gently. "Where is your mind right now?"

Lydia rolls her eyes at the fond teasing in Allison's voice but sombers as she replies truthfully, "Lost in the past."

"Welcome back to the present then. Stay here with me." Allison says with a knowing smirk at the blatant reference to her poetry as she leans her forehead forward to rest against Lydia's, giving Lydia gentle nose brushes called Eskimo kisses.

"Always." Lydia says as she gazes back into Allison's eyes, a warm smile on her face and a love shine in her eyes before she gently pecks her lips against Allison's. Jason's voice breaks through the sweet private moment they are sharing causing them to pull back slightly to gaze upon the two children on the bed with them.

"Ew! Gross!"

Athena rolls her eyes in a manner that mimics Lydia so well that it is borderline horrifying, knowing that she is going to be a complete terror in the future to anyone that tries to tell her what to do. "No Jason. It's cute that they love each other."

Jason tilts his head as if scientifically cataloging Allison and Lydia's actions, careful scrutiny on his face as he responds, "I guess our mommies are cute but not as cute as Uncle Scott's fluffy puppy."

"But a close second!" Athena chimes in, a big grin on her face at the declaration. Jason nods his head in agreement. Allison puts her hand on heart, faking offense as she tilts her head back.

"My feelings are hurt! Lydia! We lost to a puppy!" Lydia just laughs at Allison's poor acting, Athena and Jason start giggling too. "But I guess second is not too bad, the puppy is really fluffy..."

"So fluffy! Can we get a puppy?! Pleaseee!" Athena asks, always quick to capitalize on the moment. Jason starts to join in on the drawn out please, both of their hands grasped together in a begging motion. Allison looks to Lydia, mimicking their hand motions and voice as she too starts pleading please.

"Maybe. We'll decide after the wedding." Lydia responds, attempting to look factual and diplomatic but the smile in her words gives her away.

Jason and Athena cheer and Allison gives them high fives at their successful teaming up strategy. Lydia knows the three of them have been talking about it and looking at dog pounds ever since Scott got a dog months ago for their family. Allison grins at Lydia, "Love you!"

Lydia nods her head, letting the light and happy feeling settle deep in her bones from this quiet moment. She can't help but feel like life always has an incredible way of reconnecting old friends, reigniting old flames, and simply working out for the best.

"I love you too."

~~~the end~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments or on [tumblr!](www.melbopo.tumblr.com)  
> (Warning: I don't check my tumblr very often during the semester cuz college is cray!)!


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